


Finding Heaven

by AllThosePrettyThings



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: 1990s, Creamcakes, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, M/M, barlliams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:29:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThosePrettyThings/pseuds/AllThosePrettyThings
Summary: They were very different, and they weren't even sure they liked each other. One was young, petulant and immature, while the other was fixated on only making his music a success.Yet, were they about to find a middle ground, and something new and unexpected at the same time?Author note: If you've read my other stories you'll know, any story I start I will always complete, and try to post regularly but there may be some delay at times.Disclaimer: This is a pure fetus creamcakes story, that takes place in the early years of Take That, but obviously not historically accurate. That said, I have tried to refer to some events that really did take place along the way. There will very likely be drama, smut and sexual references through out. It is pure fiction, and any resemblance to any real person/people is a mere coincidence! ;)





	1. The Boy from Frodsham

**Author's Note:**

> This story I have posted already on Wattpad - I just forgot to start posting it on here too, but am now catching up. If you read it on watt pad, it is exactly the same, and will be updated on both there and here, from now on. I will post all existing chapters on here over the next few days.

# Finding Heaven

### The Boy from Frodsham

An unsatisfied huff, and a crumpled look of distaste was all the boy from Frodsham could manage to conjure, as he surveyed his 19 year old self in the mirror. His eyes travelled from the newly bleached, spikey blond hair of his reflected self, staring back at him; to the black vest, striped cycling shorts and red bomber jacket. He'd definitely worn worse but he'd also definitely not win the best dressed in the band. To be honest he had arrived far too late to the outfit choosing which had simply consisted of their Manager, Nigel throwing a bag of clothes into whatever make shift dressing room they were currently forced to endure, at some club in Manchester. The other four young lads from the North West had immediately scrambled to their feet and descended on bag of mismatch clothing like vultures squabbling over a meat carcass. On this occasion, however, Gary had definitely been left with scraps. He'd simply been too busy to notice the clothes induced chaos around him, as he frantically concentrated on putting the finishing touches to a new track they were supposed to be premiering that very night. It was Howard Donald that eventually reminded him he needed to be actually getting ready for their gig, since they were due on stage in 15 minutes.

So now Gary was staring at himself in the mirror trying to muster some sense of self confidence when all he actually felt like was an idiot, and as far as he was concerned, he looked like one too. He usually wouldn't care, but that very afternoon, their manager Nigel Martin-Smith had dropped hints about him needing to lose some weight, and maybe catch a tan so he could at least look a bit like the other lads. The words had hit him harder than he'd thought they could, after all - Gary usually wouldn't put that much care in to his appearance, but since seeing the other lads invest such significant periods of time; pruning, oiling, toning their own bodies and choosing their clothes methodically, Gary had quickly grown more self-conscious of his short comings in his appearance. Nigel's negative comments simply confirmed it.  
"Ha! You look fucking ridiculous!" A young voice gleefully chuckled from behind him, surprising him more than a little.  
"Thanks Robbie" Gary said grumpily, not even turning around to acknowledge the presence of the provoking youngest member. Instead, Gary swiftly left both the mirror and Robbie behind him as he shoved all his misgivings and negative thoughts to the back of his head, and proceeded to walk down the corridor to the rehearsal room. Inside Jason, Mark and Howard were manically practising some last minute moves to Gary's new track that was now playing over the stereo speakers; "Once You've Tasted Love". As he watched the guys wiggling their hips and gyrating like crazy, alarm bells in his head began to sound – there was no way he could do that and look natural. Worst still he knew this frantic rehearsal was not actually for the intention of that night's performance but instead was in preparation for a spot on TV, the very next day.  
"Eh lads, before you get a little carried away, I best tell you I've just made a few last minute changes to the opening of the track," Gary informed them, "it shouldn't make too much difference to the routine, only the timing." 

Mark and Howard had momentarily stopped with a look of concern, but on heeding Gary's words, they simply shrugged their compliance and went back to their rehearsal; throwing all sorts of shapes with their arms and circling their pelvis – it was enough to make Gary's insides turn to jelly! He knew he should be excited to be performing on TV, and he was, for the 'singing his own material part', but the thought of having to dance like the other lads just left him with a monsoon of butterflies circulating his stomach like a tornado.  
"What's the matter, Barlow?" Came a sudden and strangely soft voice in his ear, "You worried about the choreography...or just think it's all beneath you?!" the soft voice cruelly laughed.  
"Get lost Robbie", Gary sighed tiredly, he had no time to put up with Robbie's irritating baiting words. In fact he'd really much prefer the lad to just permanently push off, and leave him the hell alone.  
Undeterred by Gary's curt words however, Robbie continued, "It must really kill you that even after all the sucking up to Nigel, and sucking off, for that matter – you still have to dance with us lesser mortals!" he savagely mocked.  
Feeling a sudden wave of anger suddenly break through the wall of mild irritation, Gary turned around to face the lad from Stoke.  
"What are you talking about?" Gary spat with obvious irritation.  
"Oh come on, we all know the 'special' treatment you give Nigel!" Robbie smirked.  
"Oh don't make me laugh!" Gary retorted, "You're just jealous".  
"Yeah, jealous I don't have to shag that old prick, to get my way – you're deluded", Robbie chided back.  
"Just piss off Robbie, you're talking complete bullshit!"  
"You're telling me that Florida trip was all innocent?! A young lad and a grown older GAY man sharing a room, yeah right!" Robbie laughed.  
"How many times do I have to say it?! We had separate beds for Christ's sake!" Gary tiredly insisted. He was sick of having to explain it to the rest of the lads all the time. He'd always wanted to go to Disney Land, and Nigel had kindly offered to take him. And that was all he had to say about that.  
"Come off it! You're always flirting with him, wrapping him around your finger – all the girls in his office are convinced you're gay!" Robbie continued, likely knowing he was antagonising Gary, but maybe that was the objective.  
"I'M NOT GAY!" Gary growled in his face. "I'm not sleeping with him, I wouldn't do anything like that to get my own way", Gary sternly told him, squaring up to the younger lad, his face now a few inches from Robbie's.  
Robbie smiled. "Yeah righ'!" he scoffed, but before Gary could retaliate, Jason had caught sight of the two lads skulking by the side door and called them in to join the rehearsal.

Irritatingly for Gary, because they had both turned up late and were additionally always the slowest to pick up the choreography, they were paired together for a major part of the sequence.  
"It's a bit unfair all this", Robbie complained after one run-through, "it's righ' hard this!", and Gary was actually about to agree with Robbie, before the young lad added, "plus I'm being completely eclipsed by Gary's hefty frame ain't I?!"  
Robbie broke down in laughter as Gary's face flushed crimson.  
It was the last straw for Gary. He face heated with anger and shame, he threw Robbie a stony look and bolted from the rehearsal room, to proceed in the direction of the stage. He was done with rehearsals, he now just wanted to get the gig out of the way, rip off the ridiculous clothes he was wearing from his "hefty" body and go home to bed, he sourly thought to himself.  
It wasn't long however, before Howard joined Gary at the side of the stage. They were due on, in 5 minutes, and Howard was preparing to go on. "He's just winding you up, Gary", Howard remarked as he continued to stretch and warm up beside Gary.  
"Well, I'd wish he'd stop – it's getting boring now!" Gary remarked.  
"Well, of course he won't stop – not when he keeps getting a reaction out of you!" Howard wisely observed, "Besides, he's probably just jealous of you being Nigel's favourite. That stuff is kinda important to you when you're young; and sometimes I forget just how young he is."  
Gary wrinkled his nose in disgust, "I'm not his favourite", he retorted.  
"Eh, you are Gaz", Howard told him in no uncertain terms, "But its fine. It's understandable really, I mean – it's your singing and songs that make us a band, isn't it? Without all that, we'd just be a bunch of twats just dancing."  
"Jason was doing pretty well for himself, just dancing." Gary commented.  
"What on 'Hitman and Her'?" Howard replied, "I guess, but it's hardly the big time is it?"  
"Eh, Dougie – if you hadn't noticed already, we're standing in a crummy Manchester club in clothes even a clown wouldn't be seen dead in – it's hardly the big time!" Gary chuckled.  
Howard looks Gary up and down, before nodding his agreement with a shrug, "Where did you even find those clothes?" he playfully sniggered.  
"At the very bottom of the bag, amongst the crumbs you lot had generously left me!" Gary grumbled.  
"Well, serves you right for being late!" Howard mocked before adding with a more sympathetic tone, "Wait here, and I'll go find you some baggies' instead of those bloody tight cycling shorts!"  
Gary smiled his appreciation but replied with a mere shake of his head, "Thanks for the offer, but don't worry yourself – besides the shorts can't make it any worse to be honest with you!"  
Howard smiled, "Fair enough! Besides, I'm pretty sure this is another Gay club Nigel's booked us in to, so the shorts will give the audience something to look at!" He said with a cheeky wink.  
Gary nearly choked, "Are you kidding me! All their eyes will be superglued on you guys, they'll probably just wish me to get out of the way!"  
"Well, if Nigel's out there with them, then he'll be wishing for all of us to get of the way of his ability to leer at Jason!" Howard laughed.  
Gary broke out in giggles, "You're right there!"  
"Honestly speaking", Howard managed between laughs, "Both you and I are probably the only ones Nigel actually tolerates, but he fancies the pants of Jason for sure, and yet for some reason that just makes Nigel more annoyed at him!"  
"Exactly! I mean, how many times has he been fired this week, already?!" Gary replied as they both broke down in fits of laughter.  
"And what you are two sniggering about?" Came Mark's sudden voice from behind them, and the two lads turned to see the other three lads of their band approach them. There was now only a minute left before they were due to take the stage. They could in fact hear the club's host now warming up the audience, getting ready to announce the lad's performance.  
"Oh nothing Mark, we're just preparing our minds for another horrific performance!" Howard answered back, "Glad you could all make it, he's about to announce us any second."  
The other lads said nothing but made the final adjustments to their clothes, hair and their muscles – be giving them a little 'warm-up' shake.  
Gary looked past them to the timid figure at the end, Robbie Williams, who caught his eye and returned a nervous smile. It confused Gary no end, but he found himself by reflex, smiling nervously back at the young lad, as he heard the words, "Take That", boom from the stage speakers. It was time.  
****************

"It was too fast. The whole time, you were at a different pace to the rest, and YOU'RE supposed to be the professional dancer!" Nigel's scathing words mocked as he tore into Jason, back in the 'dressing room' later that night.  
They'd finished the performance, and it'd actually gone down well. The audience had loved it, and the lads were on a post-gig high. Well, they had been until Nigel had been there to greet them back off stage and immediately began to recite a harsh critique of the entire thing. He started on Robbie for dancing too slow, then went on to Howard and Mark for missing cues and even Gary didn't escape the tirade, with Nigel telling him he had lazy arms. But it was Jason that evidently had to take the brunt of it all with quite a personal attack. Well, that was until Nigel turned back to Robbie, and suddenly spat, "AND don't be thinking of making any stupid faces at the camera, tomorrow – or else you'll regret it, Robbie!"  
Robbie being incredibly tired just simply ignored Nigel, rolled his eyes and stomped out of the room, in a complete huff. He stormed off into the van and sat there waiting for all the others to pack up the equipment and get it loaded on to the van. Once they were all set, now all very extremely tired, in want of a hot shower and a warm bed, Gary was set to drive them all back in the van home, himself.  
Well, that was until Nigel decided he would drive them back instead.  
With no other choice, Gary had to jump out of the front where there was no room for a passenger, and hop in to the back of the van with the other lads, instead.  
Inside the back, he quickly found there was only one place left to squeeze in, and that was beside Robbie. Although the prospect gave Gary no joy, he dutifully sat down in the space provided by Robbie shifting further aside. There began the very uncomfortable journey home, whereby Gary ensured he leant furthest away from Robbie as much as possible. When the van turned around a corner, Gary was even forced to make a massive effort to avoid nudging into Robbie. It was the most uncomfortable ride home, well, that was until it even exceeded that title by Robbie suddenly falling asleep half way through. Robbie's unconscious form suddenly and seemingly innocently fell against Gary's arm, and then proceeded to evade any gentle encouraging nudge from Gary to try and make Robbie awake, or at least shift in this sleep enough to rest his head somewhere else – anywhere else! Instead, Robbie stayed soundly asleep, and in fact heavily sank further against Gary's frame until his head was completely resting on Gary's shoulders.  
Gary felt his whole body go stiff as a board. Not even the bumps along the road made him move a muscle.  


Through sleepy eyes, Mark watched the scene with amusement from across the other side of the van. He felt for Gary, whose discomfort was obvious, but the strangest thing was, he could have sworn he saw Robbie smile in his sleep.


	2. A Cheeky Lad from Stoke

"Fuck, I'm never going to get that choreography down!" Robbie complained in the dressing room, to Mark. "It's fucking pointless, I'm going to look like an idiot".  
"Well, Gary's having trouble too, so you're both look like idiots", Mark reasoned while not really paying that much attention – he'd received a card from a fan at the door, and was busy smiling while he read the note of adoration. They didn't really receive much in the way of fan mail, it was still early days but of what there was, Mark always had the lion's share.   
"Yeah, except he's singing!" Robbie continued, "So it don't matter to him, does it? – why is it always me that sticks out like a sore thumb and gets the rubbish end of the deal?!"  
"That's not true Rob."  
"Yes, it bloody is! Nigel hates me, nothing I do is right, and to be honest there's nothing I really do, except sing back up".  
"Oh, really?! Well that's funny, because I overheard Gary and Nigel discussing a cover song, and you taking lead".  
"What? When?"   
"Last night after dinner – Gary might've even mentioned it to you earlier, if...you know, you hadn't been such an arse to him!"  
"I wasn't an arse! And if it APPEARED as if I was, it's only because he bloody gets on my nerves – he's so stuck up and so self-important, like we'd be nothing without him!" Robbie defended.  
Mark rolled his eyes, "Except, we WOULD be nothing without him – he's our song writer and right now, the only one that can actually sing!"  
"Excuse you Owen! I CAN sing!"  
"You can rap, Rob" Mark laughed, but before Robbie could retaliate to that, he added, "Just leave off Gary would you? You've been right obsessed with winding him up lately."  
"I'm not the only one, Howard was doing the same" Robbie defended.  
"Howard's allowed to – it's funny when he does it, but you take it too far Rob" the smaller lad said, as he surveyed the youngest band member with stern look.  
"Well, I guess" Robbie began, "it's just if he didn't look down on me all the time, I might not find it such fun!"  
"Oh, god Rob! You're hopeless!"   
Robbie simply smirked at Mark in reply, his face full of glee and mischief. Mark could only roll his eyes, and left Robbie there in the dressing room wallowing in his own sense of self-satisfaction. Besides they were due on stage in 5 minutes. 

The performance, in actual fact, went fine. He was paired with Gary for the dance sequence they'd rushed in rehearsal, in trying to prepare for the TV spot the next day. But trialling it out at the club that night, they'd actually managed to pull it off - and complete with his own cheeky displays to the audience, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. Straight from off the stage, he'd received a telling off from Nigel before quickly tearing off the now very sweaty, hideous outfit, and running off to the van outside. A little while later the others came out and Gary made for the front of the van to sit in the driving seat. The sight came of great relief to Robbie, for if Gary was driving, then that meant Nigel must've been making his own way home. The significance of that being, they could all just relax and have a nice ride home.  
"Nigel, I can drive – don't worry about it, we'll see you back at the studio tomorrow", A soft Northern voice carried from the front of the van, just as Robbie crept in the back and sat down. Mark followed in shortly after.  
"No I'll drive, I need to have a word with you all, anyway", Nigel told Gary.  
Robbie felt his stomach drop, Nigel was driving them.  
"Not about tonight's performance, surely?" Howard suddenly piped up, "We've already gone over what we did wrong, Nige!", he continued as he clambered over the younger members already sat in the back of the van, and found a place to sit down nearest to the front.  
"No Howard, I mean about tomorrow!" Nigel replied, and to Robbie's shock, he could even detect a smile in Nigel's response. If he'd been as cheeky as that, Nigel would've had a right go at him. Besides all that, with Nigel now driving it meant goodbye to peace and quiet. The older manager would instead take pleasure in lecturing them the whole journey home.  
"Did you work on the track?" Robbie heard Nigel quietly ask Gary in the front of the van.  
Robbie guessed Gary must've nodded, because the next thing he heard Nigel say was, "Good, we'll need to discuss that too, don't let me forget. Now go hop in the back, there's a good lad".  
There was a pause before the back door to the van opened, and Gary's face appeared. Mark shared a look of commiseration with the spiky haired lad, for which Gary offered a lop-sided grin in return, just before he cast his eyes around the van looking for a place to sit. Without further thought Robbie nudged up to make room, and after a slight pause Gary finally clambered in beside him. The door shut, the engine roared into life, and off they went.

Between Nigel's minute-by-minute dissection of the performance with never-ending criticism, and the very uncomfortable ride the back of the van provided his numb bum, it was not the best experience. In fact the only thing that was keeping him mildly amused was the enormous effort Gary seemed to be going to, to ensure he didn't bump in to Robbie every time they turned a corner. Robbie would watch as the lads on the other side would collide in a mess of jarring shoulders with every turn, and yet given the same circumstance, Gary remained rigid to the spot. It was unnatural, and Robbie wondered why it was that Gary tried so hard to avoid any contact with him.  
That mere thought consumed Robbie's mind the rest of the journey, until he came up with an idea to test Gary's resolute composure. Almost having to stop himself laughing at his own brilliance, he decided to put his plan into action, after all he needed something fun to pass the time! So ensuring the only smirk he was wearing was an inward one, he decided to feign falling asleep – which in all honestly should've been impossible with Nigel's driving, not to mention his ceaseless talking. Robbie closed his eyes, and concentrated on listening to the humdrum of the van's knackered engine, rocking slowly side to side with the motion of the van, until he began to feel himself lean closer and closer in Gary's direction, until he was leaning up against Gary's strong sturdy arm. With his head now resting back on the side of the van, it also began to slowly slide towards Gary – until Robbie's head slid delicately on to Gary's awaiting shoulder – he had hit his mark. Robbie barely able to conceal his own smirk, was intrigued to see what Gary would do; he was almost 90% sure Gary would immediately push him off while still maintaining his stubborn composure. But Gary didn't. The spiky blond did (not so subtly) try to stir Robbie awake, but since Robbie wasn't even asleep in the first place, and in fact very purposefully pretending to be so, Robbie knew Gary wasn't going to succeed in 'awakening' him.   
In fact, in a complete twist of surprise, Gary let Robbie's head stay on his shoulder. Gary still felt as stiff as a board to Robbie, but also strangely welcoming. Robbie found the circumstance perplexing, and yet strangely comfortable. After a while, Robbie knew he should probably just remove his head from Gary, but for some reason he didn't...he didn't really see the need to do so. The situation was actually nicely comfortable, and besides now Robbie was finding he was really drifting off. The hypnotic humming of the engine together with the rhythmic motion of the van, rocking side to side with every bump - it was all so suddenly causing Robbie drift completely off...

 

"Robbie...Rob...wake up, we're back", a soft, gentile voice called out to him, reluctantly retrieving him from the edge of his dream-filled blissful abyss. "Robbie, mate..." that same voice called, slowly stirring Robbie back into consciousness before finally, he opened his eyes to a world of confusion. A pair of light blue-green eyes were looking into his, and searching for recognition. They were familiar to Robbie, yet all he could focus on was how invitingly beautiful they were. "Earth to Robbie, you with us?" the eyes crinkled with soft laughter, "We're home", Gary's now very recognisable and obviously tired, voice spoke to him.   
Robbie blinked in both astonishment and confusion as the world came into better view, and he finally refocussed on the identified owner of the pair of eyes he'd been temporarily bewitched by. With a jolt, remembering himself and where he was, he sat bolt up, "Oh, yeah...right...good", was all the lad from Stoke managed to say, before he very hurriedly began to gather his stuff and awkwardly shuffle past Gary out the back of the van. Strangely all of a sudden, Robbie was needing to look anywhere other than at Gary Barlow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to follow soon... :)


	3. A Barlow-shaped Problem

Robbie had a problem and it came in the shape of Gary friggin' Barlow. For some reason, Robbie just couldn't stop thinking about something from the night before. He knew he was overthinking, but he didn't even really know what he was thinking about, just that something was unsettling him and it had to do with Gary.

_'Just stop thinking too deep!'_ he'd inwardly scold himself every time he caught his mind wandering, such as when he was staring in to the bathroom mirror while washing his teeth. In fact this time, he actually had to physically slap his cheek as well, albeit lightly for he did indeed find himself aimlessly thinking on it again...and again....and again. He still wasn't even sure what it exactly was that was playing on his mind, but somehow it just always came back to Gary Barlow's face. And it was annoying as hell.  
**********************

 

It was a cold start at the TV studio, with no heating, the bleary-eyed boys all shivered into their clothes, as they obediently got ready for the TV performance of their next single. Unfortunately, there was only time for one last rehearsal before they were due on air, and so a strained nervous air hung low in the room, entangling them, entrenching enough to tighten the lads' vocal chords as they tried to warm up their vocal chords as well as their body muscles. It didn't make for a relaxing atmosphere.  
Robbie, for one was so far from relaxed, it was unreal. He felt sick to the stomach and on top of all that he was still just incredibly agitated, and he still couldn't figure exactly why. Then during rehearsal he quickly realised he would soon be feeling a lot more than just agitated even still. Since, he'd forgotten the sequence meant that if he wasn't largely based beside Gary (which he was) then he was directly behind him instead; and staring at the back of Gary's head was doubly more irritating. Robbie thought it such an annoying head. He didn't know why, but more so, because he (very annoyingly) just couldn't stop staring at it. It was irritating, in fact everything about Gary Barlow was irritating to Robbie. He just found him entirely and completely irritating – which certainly explained the weird annoying knot he had strongly began to feel in his stomach whenever he saw Gary, heard his voice, or even heard the mere mention of his name. It was odd really, it was like Robbie's ears were extra sensitive to it. And as far as Robbie was concerned, that only confirmed matters. Robbie reasoned with himself, that it must be a knot of deep aggravation that he felt within him, and Gary was the sole cause - he was sure of it!   
At least he was right about one thing, but why – he didn't know.

"There's no break after this lads", bellowed Nigel's sudden voice, out of nowhere as he had barged in and disrupted the rehearsal, "We've gotta hop to the warehouse I've secured to shoot the video – we only have it for two hours!"

Nigel waited for all the lads to nod their understanding, and thus ensuring they had heeded his words. He then turned to Gary and continued, "Just heard back from Duncan", he pointedly remarked to Gary, no longer paying attention to anyone else, "they've added that rap part to the end, I'm not sure it'll make the radio edit or even the track but we'll put it in the video". Gary nodded; whilst struggling to keep his face straight and not crumped up with mild annoyance – but then he was sure Duncan, the producer knew what he was doing. Seemingly satisfied, Nigel then turned his attention to Robbie, "You'll mime that part in the video", he told Robbie flatly, "But don't you dare make any faces at the camera – there or here Robbie, you hear me?"  
"Yes, I hear you", Robbie said with a roll of his eyes, his voice tired and bored.  
Nigel fixed him a steely stern look through the narrowed eyes of his own, "You better! I want the routine, no showboating!" He continued, "If the network people think my lads can't be trusted on Live TV, we've had it! Got it?!"  
Robbie took a moment to survey the short, puff-faced man before him; red in the cheeks, piny tiny eyes, and Robbie was sure he could even spot a throbbing vein pulsating at his temple. He really disliked Nigel, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. They'd been a band for about two years now, and in all that time nothing had changed, Nigel still treated Robbie like an unruly, petulant teenager. Robbie wasn't denying the fact he was exactly those things, but he'd also say it was just his playful, rebellious side. He liked to show off, s'all. He actually was pretty sure it was his best quality in the band – the crowds seemed to love him for it, or so he smugly thought to himself. The other lads seemed fine with it too, in fact only Nigel seemed to taken real issue with it, and unfortunately, Nigel Martin-Smith just happened to be their manager. The odd thing was, Nigel would also take great pleasure in reminding Robbie from time to time (in fact, most days), that it was in fact, for those very qualities that majorly secured Robbie a position in the band in the first place, 'the band needed a bit of youth and fun' he'd say...

"Earth to Robbie! Wake up!" Nigel abruptly yelled, "I said 'ave you got it clear in that thick head of yours?! It's important this – I've already got another TV spot lined up on that kids programme, 'Hanger 17' – but if you mess this up -"  
"Yes, Nigel – I get it!" Robbie eventually grumbled back after being shaken from his reverie.   
Luckily as Robbie surveyed, Nigel seemed satisfied with that reply, and had already moved on, to Gary. To Robbie's mild surprise, a very purple-faced Nigel was now giving Gary quite the grilling too, "It's just not good enough Gary, YOU said you could do it, so I left it to you. Yet I get this message at the office this morning saying there was no final version – Gary this needs to have been done already! You ask me to take you seriously, you ask why we need to do covers - well this is why!" he blasted. 

Robbie quietly and incredibly surreptitiously surveyed Gary, who was only half dressed still (or maybe he was fully dressed, Robbie wasn't sure on account that the lads seemed to be required to wear less and less these days). And to the other lad's credit, Robbie noticed how Gary remained stoically stony faced as Nigel continued to growl at him, "Honestly, if you're not even prepared to put the work in –"  
"I'm sorry you feel that way Nigel", Gary suddenly interrupted but incredibly sedately, "But I was in fact up till 3am last night trying to finish it, and I can work on it more tonight", he reasoned quite calmly. Gary was used to Nigel's bulldozing ways of doing things and especially his hard line tone.   
While Robbie would argue that at any given moment he was mostly half irritated by Gary and half intimidated by him; yet in this circumstance, even Robbie couldn't help but admire Gary for how he calmly handled Nigel. He wished he could be more like him, and not just when it came to Nigel, for Robbie had also surveyed (again, VERY surreptitiously of course), how calm and unfazed Gary looked most of time, he didn't even seem to get nervous performing. Robbie meanwhile, almost always had to put a character on, just to get through the damn thing. Even the other lads as Robbie saw were nervous as shit most of the time, particularly this morning, where he could still see them currently huddled in a corner, eating dry crackers with their faces white as sheets – they were literally shitting themselves, to Robbie.   
It all made Robbie rather curious.

"No need", Nigel suddenly barked from nowhere, switching Robbie's focus from his pensive 'Gary Barlow' wanderings, and back to his manager. Nigel had turned from a clipboard he was reading to look back at Gary with mild surprise, and as Robbie surveyed, it was also with a more gentile face, followed by a calmer voice to match, "I'll get you into a studio this evening - a producer and sound editor is all we need", Nigel said with a generous smile.  
Gary looked perplexed, "But what about the vocals?" he quizzed while shooting a quick (blink & you'd miss it) glance towards the lads in the corner still munching on a packet of those dry 'cardboard' squares.   
By comparison, Nigel didn't even look in their direction, but with an impatient frown he instead kept all his attention on Gary, "Just get it done, Gary", he ordered with a dismissive air, "It's just a fucking B-side!" he tiredly stated, "I want the whole thing done by tomorrow morning, the whole track, ready to go - go it?"  
Nigel had brought his face closer to Gary's, to look Gary directly in the eyes and ensure there was understanding there. For a very strange alarming moment for Robbie, he watched as Nigel leaned closer to Gary's face, and Robbie felt a stab somewhere within him that was sharply followed by an adrenaline rushed, overwhelming urge to go over and punch Nigel's lights out.   
However, after the moment passed (nearly as quickly as it had arrived), Robbie reasoned with himself, that to be fair, Nigel always made him feel that way.  
Robbie watched Gary slightly back away, before hesitantly nodding his consent. No more was said, no more exchanged. In fact both he and Gary both watched as a seemingly contented Nigel then turned and walked off in the direction of a TV producer that had appeared in the corridor just outside their changing/rehearsal space. Nigel left the lads to it, and strolled off with the producer appearing to be in deep discussion about something or other, and so Robbie found he instead turned his attention back to Gary. Oddly, as Robbie astutely observed, Gary suddenly appeared to have lost his calm exterior, for he looked quite unsettled about something. Yet, whatever was on his mind, he also appeared to quickly shake it off, and turned to head over in the direction of the other lads.  
"Eh, Gaz!" Robbie suddenly blurted out (much to his own surprise), since he had no idea why or what he was about to say.  
Gary turned to face Robbie, which gave Robbie's whole core a jolt. It had to be connected to that some sensation of irritation he felt squirm inside him every time Gary looked at him. Or so he figured. Either way, he ignored it.  
"Eh...I...I was wondering –", Robbie carefully started, before his mind managed to catch up, "I was wondering em, see Mark mentioned there was a new track, 'Only a Minute', I think he said, that you wanted to speak to me about?" Robbie ended with a hint of bravado.  
Gary tilted his head and looked at Robbie a little confused, and Robbie once more felt a really weird squirmy feeling in him that he couldn't name, but this one felt strangely nice. Before Robbie could ponder on it further, he saw a bright look of recognition spread into Gary's eyes (that Robbie had been intently watching), "Ah yeah – 'It Only Takes a Minute", Gary said with a smile that caused the strange sensation in Robbie to increase two-fold, seemingly enveloping him in a warm feeling of...well, he didn't know.  
"Yeah, so it's another cover", Gary continued, completely unaware of the 'weird' effect he was currently having on Robbie, "they're still deciding but there's a lead if you want it?" he casually inquired.  
Excusing all the other funny feelings Robbie had swimming around inside, that piece of news made his whole soul fill with elation– at last, he was getting a lead!  
"Oh my god – yeah!" Robbie immediately responded with enthusiasm, his eyes already scanning the room for a phone to call his mum.  
"Great", Gary casually replied, "Well, since it looks like I'm now going into a studio this evening – how about you pop in at some point and take a listen to the re-mix sample the producer sent over?"

Robbie wanted to beam from ear to ear, and was still inwardly envisioning the exact words of how he was going to tell his mum, but on the outside he quickly resumed his teenage detached stance and played it down; so with a mere shrug he simply replied with, "cool, sure – I reckon I can make it", before a small smile gingerly escaped.  
To Robbie's pleasant surprise, Gary smiled right back at him. In a split second, Robbie felt a sharp inhale of breath. However, before Robbie could ponder on the cause, the other lads called them over to prepare for their performance.  
*********************

"I bloody told you – no funny faces!" Nigel blasted at Robbie as they piled into the mini bus they had for the day. They'd finished their TV spot and were now off to few school gigs in Humberside to perform 'Once You've Tasted Love', 'Promises', and Do What You Like'.   
"And don't think I don't know what you were doing!" Nigel continued. Robbie said nothing. He wouldn't answer Nigel back in this instance – not when a lead vocal hung in the balance. He'd been pretty confident that Nigel would have a go at him afterwards, no matter what he did, so he thought he'd at least have a bit of fun. Maybe that's precisely why he did it, to get at Nigel and give him an excuse to have a go. 'Whatever', Robbie inwardly said, for he doubted it made the camera shot anyway, which was much more than likely to have been resting on Howard and Jason most of the time, being so much more athletically and aesthetically appealing to put on camera. Besides, it was just a small stunt. What did it even matter, it was live TV, it'll not likely ever resurface again! 

With no 'smart Alec' comebacks provided from the unruly youngest band member, Nigel meanwhile continued, "After the schools, we've a street gig and I've also managed us a last minute booking at a club tonight!" Nigel sounded very proud with himself. He appeared to not even hear the collective and very audible sigh that emerged from the lads; a street gig. They hated street gigs, or as Howard aptly referred to as 'busking without the brass' – meaning money, or the lack they received for doing it. It basically consisted of them setting up with a stereo under a town centre gazebo and doing some dance routines while Gary sung along to a backing track or two. It looked incredibly unprofessional, but Nigel insisted on doing them. On the occasions where people got a little confused and did indeed throw money at them (the emphasis being on the word, 'thrown'), Nigel would actually got pretty mad at the assumption they were busking. "The cheek of it! We've been booked by the bloody council!" he'd grumble under his breath from the side of the stage, although that wouldn't stop him picking up all the loose change and swiftly sweeping it into his pocket. 

Unaffected by the announcements, Robbie merely sat down, pulled out his Nintendo Gameboy, and sank deep in his seat beside Mark. He didn't care where they were going or what they were doing. When the bus stopped he'd just get out, and do whatever he was told to do. Until then, he had a more important task to do; he needed to break Howard's top score on MarioKart. He was still mad at the eldest member of the band for firstly using his Gameboy without his permission (he was very protective over it), and secondly, for 'polluting' the score board with a top place score beside the name, 'Hung like a Horse'.  
Robbie was just about to select 'play' when he heard Gary's voice pipe up, albeit somewhat timidly, "Em...Nigel...I was just wondering – when we will likely be finished at the club tonight?" he asked their manager, "Because I thought you said I needed to work –"   
"It'll be fine. I'll drop you off there afterwards – I trust you'll get it done, in what time you have", Nigel confidently said, with an obvious note of finality.  
Robbie turned around to subtly look in Gary's direction. He saw a small frown on Gary's face. After all, Gary hadn't really gotten an answer from Nigel, and this affected him as well, since Robbie was going to pop along later to look at the track Gary had mentioned earlier. He tried to catch Gary's eye, but Gary had already given up on getting any other answer from Nigel and instead turned to speak to Howard, who was sat beside him. 

Robbie turned back around in his seat. Beside him Mark had his head firmly buried in a football annual, and across the aisle of the small minibus they had for the day (because they couldn't be seen falling out of a van at the TV studio), sat Jason fast asleep. They'd only been on the road 5 minutes and yet, Robbie was sure that man could sleep wherever, whenever...and strangely for a very precise time. Robbie was going to bet Jason would in fact awake in precisely thirty minutes, it was like he had an inbuilt alarm clock. Behind Jason, was where Howard and Gary were sat, and Robbie could hear them quietly talking but not a word of their conversation.

Gary was in a quandary. Nigel's response was less than comforting. If there were playing at a night club gig that meant they could be there most of the night. Nigel wanted that B side done by tomorrow morning, did that mean Nigel expected him to stay at the studio all night? Which of course he would do, he knew it was his job, and he loved being in the studio writing and recording but what if he couldn't get it done? Or so he worriedly pondered. Nigel had said, it's just a B-side, and earlier hinted that Gary should just sing the lead and backing vocals to ensure it is completed on time, but it still needed to be the best he could do. It played on his thoughts, for there was so much to do. He pulled out a note pad to start scribbling some lyrics down, only to be immediately interrupted by Howard. Howard asked him about how things were going with his girlfriend. Gary instantly gulped and Howard adeptly read the expression on his face...  
"Ooh oh, what's up – you gone off her?" Howard lightly teased.  
Gary shook his head, "It's not that...I don't think, anyway", he sighed before adding more discreetly, "I just don't think it's fair on her. I think I'm gonna knock the whole thing on the head, to be honest." Howard turned to face Gary directly for a closer observation, while still contemplating the spiky blond's confession. To Howard, Gary looked partly sad, but mostly just tired.   
"How long you been seeing her?" Howard asked him seriously, without judgement.  
"A fair while, but it's hard to spend time together when I don't know what we're doing or going", Gary told him solemnly, "it's not fair to ask her to come meet me at these random places all the time".  
"You kiddin'?" Howard playfully scoffed, "Girls love all that adventure and mystery! And besides, doesn't the saying go, 'treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen'?"  
Gary rolled his eyes, and looked at his friend with both humour and derision, "Have you ever known anyone that's actually worked for?" and raised his brow before adding, "Besides you heard Nigel – it's best we don't have 'attachments' he said, and he meant girlfriends!"  
"No shit, Sherlock! But what he really meant was don't let on we have girlfriends" Howard told him.  
Gary didn't look that convinced but conceded. Howard was then quiet for a moment, as he dealt with some inward thought.  
After a moment, he broke his silence, "The thing is Gaz, "realistically speaking, we don't even know how long all this will last. It's a great ride that's for sure, but all rides end." He told his younger friend, sensibly, "I mean, the radio stations aren't really playing us, and all these gigs are too small and make absolute peanuts! We'll not get rich like this, let alone become a famous band like Nigel thinks we will", Howard continued, "Christ – the man had to remortgage his house for our first single – and I'm not exactly sure exactly how much longer he can fund us all. Especially when he wastes money on a bus like this, just to look good".   
"Howard, I am trying real hard to write a hit – I'm working on it morning, noon and night...when I can," Gary beseeched. He more than anyone, knew that at the end of the day, their success did majorly depend on his song writing skills. It was a tough pressure, that kept him from sleep most nights, and it was what Gary needed to keep him focused. "I've got some great demos, I just need time to work on them" he added.  
"Whoa, Gaz! I didn't mean it will be down to you, I just meant that for whatever reason, and most likely money – all this could simply come to a very abrupt end", he reasoned, "Don't you want someone to go home to?" Howard finished with a look of a wise wizard about him.  
Gary pondered on Howard's words. He was right. It could all end tomorrow. With that sobering thought, he thoughtfully glanced around the mini bus as it bumbled its way along the motorway; he observed Jason was fast asleep, Mark was reading, and Robbie was...well, strangely and very momentarily glancing in his direction before in a flash, directly returning his attention straight back to his Gameboy, on which he began furiously tapping.  
"I guess", Gary responded, at length, "You're not wrong there, mate". Although truth be told, he wasn't sure at all. Deep in his heart, he was feeling different about things, and he was pretty sure having a girlfriend didn't seem fair right now, to either of them. It just didn't feel right, for more than one reason, but he wasn't looking to share all the reasons with Howard.

The rest of the journey drifted uneventfully along. Mark still contentedly reading his football manual. Robbie continued to pummel the buttons on his Gameboy, still determined to beat Howard's score; and Jason continued to soundly sleep while Gary continued to ponder and remain lost in his own distracting thoughts, the note pad left abandoned by his side.  
Even Howard had just began to drift off with the gently hum of the engine. That was until he was abruptly disturbed from his slumber by the sudden exclamation, "Thirty minutes! I bloody knew it!" Robbie yelled out with absolute joy as he saw Jason start to stir awake from his nap.  
All the lads (now very awake and disrupted from their individual pastimes), immediately turned to give the youngest band member a scathing look, and to which Robbie merely returned a cheeky albeit gingerly grin, "What?" he innocently asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - not going to lie, it just slipped my mind. Busy time and all that! Very sorry. There's at least another 5-6 chapters ready to be posted on this story, so will endeavour to post more regularly.  
> Many thanks for reading.


	4. Spend your Life Reading Signs

It's safe to say, nothing went as it should; the video shoot was too short, the schools were complete havoc, the street gig was as pointless as the lads predicted and the club gig way over ran. It was nearly midnight by the time Nigel dropped Gary off at the small, dank studio that looked positively derelict at that time of night. Gary glanced at the other lads all curled up fast asleep, and wistfully sighed as the mini bus door slid open. Nigel was dropping the rest of them off at their prospective homes, were they could have a decent night sleep. Something Gary was not afforded. 

Gary stepped out the bus as quietly as he could, although in his mild bitterness he very nearly decided to slam the door shut. He of course, thought better of it, and instead slowly drew the door closed, but as he did a small voice stirred from the darkness at the back of the bus, "Oh Gaz – I'll give that thing at the studio a miss tonight", Robbie yawned, "I'm wiped!".  
Gary didn't reply, just closed the door gently and started towards the dark building across the parking lot. He heard the engine of the bus, roar back into life behind him, and turned back in time to see it's rapidly retreating form fade from his eyes as it turned out at the top of the road, and off into the night. He heaved another sigh, this one much heavier than the last; he was real tired too. He knew Robbie would bail, and in fact he had counted on it – for he needed all the time to get that bloody B side finished, first.  
*************************

_"Now in the unemployment lines_  
You can spend your life reading signs   
Waiting for your interview   
They ruin the whole day for you..." 

 

Gary winced, "Eh, good Rob – but the line is; they can shoot the whole day for you", he spoke through to the recording booth.  
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Rob casually asked. He was standing behind a recording mic, alone in the recording booth, and speaking to Gary through an intercom. He was laying the vocals down while Gary was helping him through the lyrics of their next single from the mixing desk, back at the by now, very familiar studio. Gary loved this part – the recording and producing of new music – even covers! He honestly thought to himself, that if the band didn't take off, he'd be very happy to become a producer.  
"Yeah, Rob - I don't know", Gary humoured the younger lad, "– but it's the lyrics, and we've got limited time here, so –", Gary tried to not-so gently hint.  
"Yeah, yeah – well stop bloody interrupting then", Robbie merely grumbled.  
Gary inwardly rolled his eyes.  
...

_"Now winter's gonna turn to spring_  
And you haven't accomplished a thing   
So baby why can't...can't..." 

"Whoops, wait", Robbie stumbled, "I'll get it this time –"

_"So baby can't you....make me just a... just a... little time"  
'Cause you're what's on my mind"_

Robbie was struggling. Gary had given the lyrics to Robbie days ago. But whenever Gary enquired about learning the words, Robbie had been quite dismissive and said he'd get on to it. Gary suspected Robbie actually did get on to it at about 10pm last night.  
Nigel Wright, the producer gave Gary a pointed side-wards glance, and Gary knew what the Producer was getting at but chose to ignore it, "Rob, Listen – _"So baby can't you make me just a little time, 'Cause you never know what's on my mind"_ , Gary melodiously sang the correct words through to Robbie. Robbie simply nodded a silent response, and returned to the beginning of the verse.

"Gary - we've got under an hour left, and this kid still can't get the lyrics down" the producer whispered to Gary, "...and that's not even his biggest problem!"  
Gary frowned at those words, "What do you mean?" he asked, although he already had a good idea of what the obviously exasperated producer was going to say:  
"The song's too high for him, he still needs to go up at least one octave", The wise producer told him in earnest, "there are parts that are good, but it's a long way off, and your manager gave me strict instructions to pull it, if he can't get it right".  
"Just give him a bit more time, yeah?" Gary asked, but he already knew it was a fruitless attempt when he turned to find the Producer was already making the call.

 

Half an hour later, in walks a flustered but determined Nigel Martin Smith. He didn't even look in Gary's or the producer's direction, instead choosing to make a beeline straight for Robbie in the recording booth. On Nigel's approach, Gary could only watch as Robbie's entire demeanour changed, and he visibly appeared to shrink away if not literally, although he was sure Robbie would've tried to if he could. The conversation didn't last long. Only a few minutes later Robbie walked out the studio, but not before shooting Gary a furious glare. 

Gary didn't know how to feel, on the one hand he felt really sorry for Robbie, especially at being so overtly dismissed by Nigel like that. However on the other hand, in Gary's eyes - Robbie hadn't even really tried. During an earlier break, Gary had advised Robbie he needed to sing it higher, but Robbie returned that with a simple dismissive wave, and said he'd make it better lower; and told Gary not to worry, it wasn't his problem after all. Recalling that earlier conversation, actually made Gary feel less sorry for Robbie. The young lad was so incredibly bolshie and difficult sometimes, never really listening to other's suggestions, it was actually quite obvious it was all going to go to pot for him, on this song at least. There was another cover song in the pipeline; a song which Gary personally couldn't stand, but Nigel wouldn't budge, however, it'd offer a chance for Robbie to redeem himself on.  
"Right, Gary – you've got less than 20 minutes to get this recorded", Nigel said, as he suddenly made an entrance at the mixing desk, and startled Gary from his thoughts. Gary had no idea how he was going to do that but knew better than to argue, and so just nodded.  
"Nigel", the producer spoke, as Gary picked up the lyric sheets for a quick revision, "some of lad's work is actually not that bad, it could feature –"  
"Fine, feature it!" Nigel interrupted, already making his way towards the exit, "We just need this done, now. I told Robbie he can still lead on the next cover, it's more suitable anyway".  
With that Nigel left, leaving Gary with very little time to record the lead vocals, not that it mattered, he knew Gary would get it done. Whatever it took.   
*******************************

 

"That fucking arsehole!" Robbie seethed. He was with Mark as they waited in the van, while Nigel got the petrol. It was a new morning and they were en-route to the usual rehearsal space to prepare for more upcoming performances; but still had the other lads to pick up yet. "I was practically finished", Robbie continued, "then the round-faced bastard just saunters in and says, 'you're done Robbie, I'm pulling this from you, and Gary will take over. But you can lead on the next one'. Jeez, thanks! Twat!" Robbie huffed. Mark offered a consoling look but couldn't really get why Robbie was still bitter about it, he was still getting a lead single after all – just the next one.  
"Of course, precious Gary can do it, he can do everything! The rest of us are simply lesser mortals compared to HIM!" Robbie sourly continued.  
"Come on, Rob – it's hardly Gary's fault!" Mark argued.  
Robbie sneered in response, and muttered a "whatever", as he turned his body away from Mark to lean his head on his rolled up coat against the window, ready to feign being asleep. Leaving Mark to roll his own eyes.

By the time Gary was also in the van, Robbie had given up trying to feign being asleep and instead decided to fix Gary with an angry stare instead.   
Gary sense it, in fact he could feel Robbie's eyes burn into the side of his face like lasers but nonetheless avoided Robbie's incensed gaze, not really caring about his evident sulking; after all he had tried to give Robbie constructive advice but Robbie hadn't taken it. In Gary's eyes, it was Robbie's bloody mindedness coupled with his lack of effort that led to the lead being taken away from him. Gary wasn't fussed about leading on the single or not, especially with it being a cover. But there was a job to get done, and as far as he was concerned his job was to just get it done. Otherwise they'd never hear the end of it from Nigel; and unlike Robbie, Gary was determined to stay on Nigel's good side.

At rehearsals, Robbie continued to keep his distance firmly as far from Nigel as he could, and even tried to avoid Gary as best he could, although that was hard with the rehearsals planned. Nevertheless, it was in fact much later that same day before Gary and Robbie found themselves impossibly stuck together. The others were busy rehearsing a more technical routine that Gary and Robbie had no chance in doing, so they were instead sent out on a food run.  
Gary was driving the van while Robbie sat in the passenger's seat, still sulkily avoiding any interaction with Gary, with his arms firmly crossed and fixedly staring out the side window. He was determined it was going to stay that way.  
Gary glanced at Robbie's continuous petulant demeanour and rolled his eyes; but being the older one, he knew he best break the ice. So he waited until they had collected the food and were on their way back to the lads, before he approached a conversation with the youngest member.

"Look Rob, I'm sorry about what happened at the studio" Gary delicately started, "it was a deadline thing – you know how Nigel is about studio time being so tight, if we run over by even a minute, they start to charge us double", he reasoned. Robbie provided an audible huff to that but offered no other reply.  
Slightly growing weary of the younger band member's attitude, Gary released a little sigh before he added, "If you'd just sung it higher like I said –"  
"Oh please!" Robbie suddenly erupted out of his silent protest, "If I'd just sang it higher?" he mimicked, "You are a joke, Barlow! You were always going to take that lead – you just used this to prove you should be the only one singing ALL the songs!"   
"But you're still getting a lead, just on the next cover." Gary reasoned, determined to keep his voice even. The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument. Evidently to him, however, it seemed Robbie was looking for the exact opposite of that -  
"Yeah, and I bet you just hate that! You want them all for yourself!" he savagely snipped.  
"Oh, think what you like Robbie." Gary argued back, his patience now dissolved. "But the reality of it is, you're the one that put zero effort into the whole thing; you obviously barely rehearsed, you hadn't learnt the lyrics properly, you didn't listen to even what the producer was telling you most of the time – and now you're blaming me for your shortfalls!"  
Robbie just shook head and barked out a single derisive laugh. Although he outwardly dismissed the words, inwardly he swallowed them like a bitter pill. Not that he'd ever admit that to himself let alone to Gary Barlow. But no matter the truth, Robbie wasn't going to admit to any of that, after all he still believed he was right, and in a vain attempt to defect the blame as best as he could, and furthest from himself; he instead continued to take aim at Gary -   
"My 'shortfalls' I will fucking take, than be like you!" Robbie spat, while a sneer grew over his face, "Keep taking the leads, it won't make you any more liked! You literally annoy the fuck out of me, I can't fucking stand ya!"  
Gary said nothing. He was shocked by Robbie's words but rather than respond he just stubbornly stared directly ahead at the road, as best he could.  
Robbie, frankly more than surprised as his own harsh words, was left slightly stunned himself. He had instantly felt a weird taste erupt in his mouth, and it was coupled with a strange lurch somewhere inside him that didn't feel good at all. He hesitated a moment before he found a few final choice words, "Just stay the hell away from me" he mumbled, all under his breath, and to what aim, he knew now.  
"Fine", came Gary's stoic and only reply. After that, the rest of the journey passed in complete silence.  
*****************************

That night, Robbie laid in his bed back at home, without a hint of sleep being on the horizon. He couldn't fall sleep no matter how he struggled to. Every time he tried, he'd just toss and turn and slumber would continue to evade him.   
He had no reason to not feel sleepy, he'd been rehearsing all day – he was physically completely knackered! Yet, in his mind, behind the forced closed eyes, all he saw Gary's face. In his head, he replayed his last words to Gary, again, and again. He couldn't help it! He could still recollect the moment he said those harsh words, and how he saw Gary gently bit down on his bottom lip than offer any response. On closer inspection, Robbie had watched Gary's Adam's apple as it trembled slightly before it momentarily bulged from his throat, when Gary evidently swallowed down whatever words he wanted to say, or had been about to say, but had instead immediately aborted, like a reflex, Robbie didn't own. It left Robbie to wonder what Gary would've said if not for Robbie's savage words preventing him.   
While, Robbie knew it was true; Gary did annoy the hell out of him, he questioned himself on whether he actually ever meant to say all that, like he did? If those were his feelings, did he want Gary to know them? He wasn't sure whether he did. What did it gain? He wondered. He wasn't sure. The only thing he knew, was in that moment, he had only wanted to hurt Gary. He craved the satisfaction it would bring him; and questioned whether he would've indeed felt any satisfaction had he not hurt Gary? ...yet did that mean he felt satisfied now?   
He didn't think so.   
In hindsight, Robbie could see now it was perhaps misguided and misdirected; since it was really Nigel he was mad at. He took that out on Gary, he realised that now, and the more he thought back on things at the studio, the more he had to admit – Gary had really tried to help him. Even so, however – one thing Robbie was still sure about, was Gary being glad to have the lead back again.  
...so why couldn't Robbie sleep, and why did he still feel like this? Feeling like a real bad taste was polluting his insides, and squirming inside him. It felt awful. He wondered if somewhere out there in Gary's bed, in Gary's own house, was Gary still thinking on Robbie's words too.  
He hoped not. Although why he hoped not, he didn't know.   
"Fuck!" He quietly seethed into the tissue below him, just before he tossed and turned on to his back again, once more staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. There was ultimately nothing he could do except to actually fall sleep, or simply let the events in the van replay themselves, again and again like a broken record in his mind.   
The latter won out, and once more, Robbie replayed the image of Gary biting hard on his bottom lip before that rough swallow could observed be observed along his smooth throat, forever preventing his own words escaping. The deafening silence that had then engulfed the two of them for the rest of the drive back, it had hung heavy and was now all that was left to spin around in Robbie's head, in a way he just couldn't now switch it off.

Every now and again, a car would pass by, momentarily sending spears of light to dance around the room as its headlights shone through the cracks in the curtains. He'd watch them and sighed heavily, as it'd light up his bedside clock and tell him another hour had passed without sleep. Not that he was expecting to now. He already knew he was getting no sleep tonight. 

The reason, Gary fucking Barlow. The cause, however - was all on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far. As you may have gathered, the story itself is a bit of a slow burn in these early chapters as the boys needs to get to know each other, but then it'll jump in parts, years sometimes. I promise it'll get more exciting and very creamcakes soon!


End file.
